


Compromise

by SepZet



Category: Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Glitching Hayden, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28974036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SepZet/pseuds/SepZet
Summary: The Slayer is trapped in Hell, right where Hayden left him. He's figuring it all out, prepared to spend eternity there. Luckily, Hayden comes back to get him. They have an arguement.
Relationships: Doom Slayer/Samuel Hayden
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Compromise

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for a friend's birthday TWO YEARS AGO my word. Never posted it. Well, here you guys go?

Hate was pretty common. He was, after all, quite used to it.

_Rip and tear, rip and tear, RIP AND TEAR-_

But then there was what he felt when he looked at Samuel fucking Hayden. There was so much anger, sickness wrapped up in his belly in the absolute need he had to tear that tall fucker apart. Every time, every timeline, every moment he was awake, he had to kill, kill, kill, and he might have been able to sleep longer if not for fucking Hayden and his fucking Argent energy.

Choking on a snarl, the Slayer slammed his boot down through the face of a demon, the bone crushing under his weight, his anger. Constant fighting. Sure, he liked killing them, but he also liked fucking sleeping, not being tucked into the corners of random rooms and dozing.

It wasn’t like he could go all the way back to where he had a pet and some peace and quiet, where he wasn’t inexplicably seven feet tall and so angry all the time. He was human at one point, right? It was hard to tell. All he knew anymore was fighting and death.

However, out of all the times he had fought, he had never met nor hated someone as much as he hated Samuel Hayden.

It was like Hayden wanted the Slayer to absolutely destroy him. Taking the sword, casting him off back into Hell? He wanted to die. He had to want to die. And oh, Slayer was a generous man, and he would give him his death.

Sighing heavily, Slayer shook the gore off of his boot, looking over the fiery landscape. There had to be some way out. Normally, there was some kind of portal, some machine that could crank up the power and rip a hole in the separation between worlds.

Wherever he was, there seemed to be nothing. No hellish structures, no Argent encampments, nothing. Just jutting rock, wilderness of demons.

Was there a past where he had ever gone hiking? It felt like hiking. It would be better if he had some kind of walking stick to brace himself on the slopes.

Mounting the hellish mountain, the Slayer looked down across everything the hellscape offered. Which wasn’t much, but he wasn’t arguing. It meant he’d be easy to see, and demons could come to attack, and he could do what he did best.

Still, his vantage point allowed him to see some ruins in the distance, and that was as good of a place to go as any. It was too far to tell if it was UAC ruins or something more hellish, but he was pretty sure he didn’t care even a little. It was just a location, and there would be demons around it. That was good enough.

Continuing his trek down the mountain, he pulled out his shotgun, if only to check the shells.

Huh. Fewer than he remembered. 

Shrugging it off, he switched to the next gun. Minimal ammo. And the next gun, and the next gun. All of them had far too few shells, rounds, charges, everything. Not ideal. Most demons had a few embedded in their flesh that he salvaged once he killed them, but the demons in that plane had few and far between.

It was fine, really. He was good at punching things into submission, but it was typically easier to shoot them.

If only he still had that sword.

Sighing heavily, the Slayer slung his gun back onto his shoulder, continuing onwards. No need to worry about it. He’d figure it out, like he always did. How long had he fought demons? Weeks? Years, Centuries? It was so hard to tell. All he knew was undeniable anger, the urge to destroy everything evil, and sleep. Sometimes, when he killed demons, he had momentary distractions of how strange the world looked around him. Things didn’t quite work together. The layouts of UAC buildings changed, becoming oddly sleeker, cleaner. Layouts did not change like that within a company.

Maybe it was different times. Maybe it was different universes. He didn’t care.

What he did care about was that he had never, ever seen anything like Samuel Hayden before.

Even the thought of the towering scientist made his fists clench, his boots coming down harder on the dusty red soil. He was infuriating. He was fascinating. Nothing about UAC technology lead him to believe that such a body could ever be possible. It was horrible, towering.

Enticing.

The Slayer sneered at himself, forcing himself to shake out his hands, to loosen and relax the tension he had. He didn’t want to admit it, but he supposed he had some…preferences. Over all those times of killing demons, he’d never had any interest in anything besides killing demons.

Seeing the towering, sleek form of Samuel Hayden had been a surprise. A lovely surprise. And that voice? Disarming, really.

It didn’t mean he hated him any less. It just meant that he was fascinating to look at.

Sometimes, the Slayer was disappointed with himself. He could always be better, be stronger, kill more, save more lives, but it was never enough. He had his weaknesses, just like any other person.

Soldier.

Undying demise of the forces of Hell.

Whatever he was, he was allowed to appreciate the form that was Samuel Hayden. As he beat him into a sparking, weirdly bloody mess.

Finally, the ruins cleared up. It was an odd structure. Part of it looked like it was made by the UAC, but other parts looked more hellish, like the two buildings had somehow meshed into one. It was different than the infection of hell, with fleshy architecture growing over stark metal. It was like they had collaborated somehow.

Interesting.

Ducking into a low doorway, the Slayer peered curiously around the structure. He normally felt some kind of caution when going into a new place, but that place felt weirdly safe. That wasn’t normal. He was in Hell, in some ruins of Hell, but he didn’t feel the impending threat of demon invasion.

Perhaps it had something to do with the Night Sentinels. Maybe he was in a different realm entirely. Hadn’t he read something about the city of Argent? But there was Argent energy. Were they the same thing? Or was it just a coincidence.

Dammit, sometimes he knew too much and not enough all at the same time.

Well, might as well rummage around for some supplies. No point in letting his guard down. There was no way he was going to make that mistake.

There was no ammo to be found, which was disappointing, but there were some armor charges. That was useful, at least. He could at least be protected while he punched the shit out of the demons.

Not matter how he rummaged and went through the ruins, he could find no ammo, nothing else of use. That was disappointing, but at least he seemed to have a safe shelter to sleep in. Because, disappointingly, sleeping was still something he had to do.

So he picked a corner, and he tucked himself down into it, curling his legs up to his chest. For all of his bulk and armor, he was pretty good and packing himself down small. Made it a hell of a lot harder for the demons to spot him. He still had yet to be caught by a demon while he slept. Maybe they thought there was no sport in it.

Either way, he folded his arms over his knees, and settled back, closing his eyes behind his helmet, and let himself relax.

It’d be nice to dream again. He could hardly remember the last time he dreamed. So many ages, so many years. No point in musing on it. he needed rest, and sleeping was the best way to recover quickly. Sometimes eating helped, but all he ever really had were nutrient bars and some kind of fluid that the suit automatically injected him with to keep him going. He wore the suit, appreciated the suit, but he didn’t entirely understand how it worked. There was no point in trying to understand it. He used it, protected it, it kept him alive, and that was a good enough exchange for him.

If he ever had a chance, he should do something nice for his armor. Clean it, or something. How many layers of blood and guts had crept into the cracks and divots of his armor? Probably a lot. He didn’t even want to think about how he smelled. Probably awful. That was fine.

There was no telling how long he slept. Nothing disturbed him or gave him any reason to get up. That was fine. He liked sleeping. It made him stronger. And he would like to keep sleeping for a while.

But there was movement. He felt it, smelled it in the air, and his eyes snapped open and he had a weapon in hand before he could even think about it. The barrel smashed into something, and weight tilted, and once the gumminess cleared from his eyes, he was looking down at the glowing faceplate of Samuel Hayden.

“Well,” the scientist rumbled, “good morning to you.”

He probably thought he was being clever or snarky. Maybe he was. But it sure as shit didn’t stop the Slayer from rearing back and slamming his fist into that stupid fucking face.

Hayden had the decency to grunt, thudding back into the floor. It stunned him enough that he could toss his gun up, catching it mid air by the barrel, and swinging it back down like a bat.

Hayden clamped a massive hand on the Slayer’s ankle, yanking hard to throw him off balance. And it worked, as the Slayer tipped back, tumbling to the floor.

Not what he expected to do in Hell once banished there, but alright, he had a chance to get some payback. The moment his back hit the ground, he rolled, whipping out another gun. It only had two charges in it, but that was enough. Sweeping it around, he aimed it at Hayden’s chest, only for one of those long legs to kick out and knock it out of his hands.

Hayden was better at fighting than he thought it would be. That was a little strange, but okay. Maybe his body had been programmed to fight more than his brain knew. If he remembered correctly, Hayden had been an old scientist. There was no way he would have been able to fight the Slayer normally.

Didn’t matter. He was going to fucking kill him.

Hayden threw himself forward, slamming the full weight of his body into Slayer, knocking him back. Wasn’t quite sure what he was expecting to do, but that just allowed Slayer to start slamming his fist into his side.

“Dammit, Slayer,” Hayden snapped, clamping a big hand on the entirety of the Slayer’s helmet, slamming his head down into the ground. “I came merely to speak with you, you damn foolish beast. I want to resolve this conflict between us.”

Yeah. Resolve this. Bucking his legs up, Slayer clamped his legs around Hayden’s waist, squeezing down hard. There was so much satisfaction in hearing the metal creak and squeal under the force of his legs.

“Slayer!” Again, he smashed Slayer’s helmet against the ground. “I want merely to speak to you! You must stop this!”

That was one thing he never did. Stop. Slinging his arms around Hayden’s chest, he started to squeeze there as well.

Hayden finally seemed to understand what he was doing to himself, as he grunted, and an electrical charge burst from his metallic flesh. It shot through Slayer’s body, choking a sharp howl of pain from him, his limbs slamming open, allowing the scientist to jerk away. He pushed himself to his feet, taking a few frantic steps away.

A few moments passed before the Slayer could control his limbs again, and even then, his muscles screamed with agony as he shoved himself to his feet as well.

Samuel Hayden was always conspiring something. He would not come to Hell after the Slayer for no small reason. He had something planned, especially if he would risk the Slayer’s anger just to see him again. Where was the sword? He threw away everything for that fucking sword, and there he was, risking everything to see him again.

“There. Have you calmed yourself?”

That condescending tone. He fancied himself better, more rational. He didn’t know what the Slayer was capable of.

“Excellent. Now, as you may have surmised, I have come here to acknowledge that I have made a mistake. Removing you from the mortal plane was…foolish. I was so certain that you would continue to destroy all that I have worked towards. However, in your absence, the gods of heaven have…made their position clear. We are in need of you again, and I came here to-”

Slayer launched himself forward, aiming lower that time, slamming his entire body into Hayden’s knees. There were no words to describe how satisfying it was to have those legs snap against his weight, bowing backwards, sending the full weight of Samuel down into his back. That was fine. He rolled out from under the metal torso, whipping back around.

Samuel, to his credit, pushed himself up to the remains of his thighs, spitting curses. He was slowed, tamed, and that allowed the Slayer to shove him onto his back, forcing the scientist to splay underneath him.

There were no words. There was nothing that Hayden could say to fix what he had done. For all of his advancement of humanity, he had killed so many more. Removing the Slayer from the mortal plane surely allowed so many demons to raze Hell, to kill, to destroy. The Slayer could only imagine what Earth looked like since he had been gone for so long. All for a sword, all for energy. It was like the fucking wars over oil, back when the world hadn’t advanced so far. None of it was worth it. It would never be worth it, and they would never understand how fucking stupid they were.

_Rip and tear until it is done. Rip and tear until it is done! Rip and tear! RIP AND TEAR-_

Slayer clapped his hands together, clenching them into a fist as he brought them both down onto Hayden’s chest, denting the breastplate. Hayden’s breath seemed to wheeze out of him, which didn’t seem possible, as he was more machine than man anymore. Upwards he strained again, and downwards he smashed again, and again. Each strike earned him a gasp, and wheeze, Hayden’s head lurching back, his sounds ever more explosive, more intense, more-

“Yes!” Hayden cried out as another blow landed on his chest, sending sparks shooting from the cracks in the metal.

Uh.

Slayer paused, breathing hard, focusing on the glowing face of the scientist. The blue line glowed ever brighter, and Hayden seemed to shake against the ground. Strange. Very strange.

“Don’t stop,” Hayden sputtered, his voice reverberating with static, with damage, with something completely unidentifiable.

Uh. Um. That was…confusing. Slayer’s grip loosened, his head tipping to the side. He was doing his damnedest to destroy Hayden, and he wanted him to…continue?

“So powerful, so undeniable. Years of study never led me to believe that you would be so…” Hayden shuddered again, lifting a shaking hand upwards, laying it on Slayer’s thigh. “You are unlike anything these realms have ever seen. You are-”

Was he coming on to him? Really? After all of that? After the betrayal, the fighting? All of it?

That was…surprisingly enticing.

“I wondered so many things about you. It ached to send you here, to remove my chances for study, but I had to. You’re so destructive, so powerful. Having you here, having you beat me so efficiently…” That big hand slip upwards, up higher, metal fingers teasing over the crotch plate of his armor. “At first, it annoyed me. Now I ache to see what you destroy, what you make your own…”

Well. For the first time in a very long time, there was some pressure in his armor that he hadn’t expected to ever feel.

“Destroy me, Slayer. It would be the least of my penance for ever trying to remove you from your duties.”

Literally? Or-

There was a sharp slide of metal, and a thick sort of protrusion slid from Hayden’s pelvis. A function he didn’t know he had, but there it was. The tall, robotic scientist had a penis. It glowed and leaked weirdly vibrant fluids, but okay. He’d seen plenty of strange things in his time. A robot with a dick wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever had to deal with.

“Here, Slayer.” Hayden lifted his hips, sliding a big hand down, pushing long fingers into something soft below his dick. The Slayer couldn’t exactly see what it was, but he heard the wet sound, the drip of fluids.

It had to be a trap. Something about it was a trap. Hayden would never do anything without some kind of ulterior motive. There was something going on there, but there was the question of whether or not he would be able to resist it.

And admittedly, it wasn’t something he had ever been able to do before, and he hated Hayden, and he wanted to do it, wanted to destroy him entirely.

So he did step back, and kick Hayden’s legs apart. That was what he wanted, after all. That much was clear by the breathing and the sharp gasping.

It wasn’t rough enough when he dropped to his knees between Hayden’s spread legs. It had to be rougher. So he hooked both hands under Hayden’s broken thighs, hitching them up, reveling in the sharp crack of his hips. It had to be rough. He hated Hayden, admired him, wanted to destroy him, wanted to fuck him.

_Rip and tear!_

His fingers felt thick, clumsy as he yanked at the catches on his armor, trying to get the crotch plate off. Sometimes, he didn’t fully understand how his armor worked, but there it was. He managed to get the plate off, managed to find a slim zipper. There was no way he could actually, actively unzip it, but he could push at it, work it down.

It was such a relief to pull his cock out. The only time he actively touched his dick was when he cleaned it or took a piss. It was weird to actually hold it when it was hard.

He knew it could get hard. That was a normal thing. He was pretty normal as a man, getting erections and the like, but he never actually did anything about it. Having his fingers curled around it was insane. He couldn’t resist pumping it, reveling in the warmth that flowed through his limbs.

“Just as big as I’d hoped,” Hayden breathed, pulling his fingers out of himself, another wet squelch following the movement. “Look at you, you could destroy me, you can destroy me, destroy me, destroy me-”

Wow. Was Hayden glitching out? No. He still had a human brain. He was just…freaking out.

Didn’t matter. He’d never actually managed to fuck anything, but there he was, hitching up Hayden’s hips. His dick awkwardly skated across whatever that thing was that Hayden wanted him in, but he could feel that he was almost there, almost doing it right. It took a few bad shoves before Hayden actually reached down to guide him, letting him push his dick into the wet clamp that was whatever the fuck Hayden had there.

It felt good. That was all he wanted. But it wasn’t deep enough. So he hitched Hayden’s legs up high, shifted up higher, straddling Hayden’s thighs. When he pushed his weight down, he could feel Hayden’s body fold, could feel his dick sink down deeper and deeper until his balls pressed against the metal.

Hayden was making really weird sounds. They were interesting, broken and intense, breaths that made no sense, cries and howls as he hooked his hands behind the Slayer’s knees, coaxing him into pressing him down lower.

He was going to lose his balance though. He slapped a hand down on Hayden’s face, bracing himself as he slammed downwards, over and over, burying himself balls deep with every thrust. So much wet, so many noises, over and over.

That was fine. He liked that. It felt good. More than good. He couldn’t control himself. He could only go harder and harder, slamming in with everything that he was.

Hayden jammed his hand in between the two of them, gripping his dick, jerking it wildly. It was hard to tell if there was some kind of lead up, as Hayden just howled, his dick twitching a pulsing out streams of luminous liquid.

He was making a mess. That was beautiful, in a way. Everything about Hayden was a feast for the senses. Watching him, feeling him, all of it. The Slayer snarled in his helmet, baring his teeth. He felt feral, wild with the pleasure of fucking him hard. He might have drooled in his helmet. He’d never admit it.

“Mate me, breed me, fill me up, Slayer, show me your virile life, show me-”

Hayden definitely broke. That was fine.

Slayer pressed down hard, howling as he came, buried deep inside Hayden’s…whatever. It didn’t matter. He just liked emptying his balls inside of the scientist, feeling whatever it was clamp and clench around him.

Hayden shuddered, his wheezing and static slowing as he slumped back onto the ground.

Huh. Slayer stepped back, straightening up so he could look at the fallen form of the scientist. It was something special to see him so broken, his legs shattered and broken, fluids, both luminous and white, oozing from his body.

“You are beyond description, Slayer,” Hayden breathed, the light of his face flickering strangely. “I never should have attempted to master you. You will always excel against me, won’t you?”

Weird. But okay. He tucked his dick away, rolling his shoulders back. Something about him made Hayden go crazy. Admittedly, it was pretty mutual. Not that crazy, but Hayden was old. Not as old as him, but old on human standards.

Shrugging it off, he turned to find his fallen weapons. He’d gotten his sleep. Might as well move on and continue his search.

“You need me, Slayer.” Hayden’s voice was clearer than before.

Sure he did. Slinging his gun onto his back, he continued about the room. Nothing left to find. He went for the door.

“You will not escape this plane without me. You know this.”

That made him pause. He wasn’t wrong. Well, he could find a way out eventually, but it might be faster if Hayden were to help him. So he turned back, looking down at Hayden’s twitching, sparking, dripping body.

Ugh. Stomping back over, he hooked his hands under Hayden’s arms, hauling him up, slinging him across his back. At least he’d have some kind of company in Hell.

“Thank you, Slayer,” Hayden rumbled, hooking his arms around his shoulders, helping to hold himself up. “You will not regret this.”

He already did. Then again, he could always dump him whenever he wanted.


End file.
